


Galaxies

by AnathemaAuthoress



Category: Lost in Space (TV 2018)
Genre: Coming of Age, Drabble, Flash Fic, Fluff, Human/Robot, Kissing, Light Angst, Other, Robot feeling exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnathemaAuthoress/pseuds/AnathemaAuthoress
Summary: Robot visits Will's room, night after night, trying to figure out what he's processing. Will figures it out first.
Relationships: Will Robinson/Robot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	Galaxies

Will was surprised by the weight the first time Robot joined him in bed. Startled in the predictable sense, as the bed dipped and the tempered-foam mattress lulled and shifted like a wave to accommodate. Yet awed too by how little impact the mechanical man seemed to have given his density. However, it did occur to Will, moments later, that Robot was partially supporting himself by using his feet— which hung over the short frame’s edge—as leverage. 

Yet it was not the almost humorous use of poise nor the sudden edition of mass which had thoroughly consumed Will’s attention. Rather it was the relaxed pose overtaking Robot. The lax arms, brought up to his head to imitate rest, the ease of iron shell-slated shoulders, and the glitter of blue stars in his face plate. 

That shield of otherworldly glass, behind which stars shone in refracting, constricting waves, stared into Will’s soft and searching gaze. He found it searching back, for once not teeming with headlights beaming through unknown darkness, begging to be understood, but rather steady, barely quivering, glowing with curiosity, a need to instead understand. It was innocent, naive in a different sense than before and yet hearkening to the day they’d met. 

“What are you looking for?” Will asked, voice soft, brows woven in concentration. He wanted to wave the landing rod, to lead his companion toward whatever he hoped to know.

Predictably, Robot gave him no answer, not with words. Long metal digits lifted up instead and tenderly traced the outline of Will’s cheek. 

Will drew in a shaky breath, both from the chill of Robot’s touch and the unexpected gentleness of it. The gesture drew a longing to surface on his skin, a crackle of need and lonesomeness that wanted to compel the touch to linger. 

Even so, Will remained still, breathing slight, as if he feared startling the stronger creature. Then, fleeting as everything else in the cold vacuum of space, Robot withdrew. 

Whatever he was looking for, he had not seemed to find. Blue lights spiraled in an assessing dance and Will’s friend stood and left.

Will thought perhaps that was the end of the matter. A brief curiosity in a world of ever-unraveling uncertainty. 

Yet Robot returned, night after night. To lie, to touch, to gaze and search. Night after night Will was prone, frozen under the achingly momentary comfort. Without parents, as equals with his sisters, as a pilot and a friend, Will was heavy with burden. Each day was a new trial, but in the dim evening, with a pocket’s light mingling with radiant blue, under those fingers he felt weightless. Finally able to breathe.

Robot seemed less satisfied by the encounters, and grew more frustrated with time. Distant in a way only Will himself, and Penny for her troublesome perception could detect. Eventually the visits stopped, and Will began to feel as if his limbs were made of lead.

One night, when his bed felt too vast as if it might swallow him, Will rose and moved into the corridors. 

The bright lights of the Jupiter felt like daylight and obscured a sense of reason, reminded Will that in space time was almost an illusion. There was no night and day, only light and dark.

He found what he was looking for on the bridge. “Come with me,” he said. 

Robot’s head turned back toward the viewer, into space where he’d been staring,  _ musing _ Will was sure.

Then he turned back toward Will and obediently followed. If he was surprised to be led back to Will’s quarters, he didn’t show it. 

Will sank to sit on the edge of his bed. Robot loomed over him, seeming almost gawky in the limited space.

“Lie down with me,” Will said, eyes wide and beckoning. 

Robot did as bidden, sunk down in his usual way, his usual side, but did not extend a hand as he usually did.

This time it was Will that reached out a hand. As age was filling his bones, stretching him out into the spaces between boy and man, he’d found his hands were growing large. But against the seemingly infinite spread of metal and fibers human’s could never quantify, Will felt and appeared small. 

Robot was chilly to the touch, but not so much as the floor of the ship or the porcelain of an old tub. It was a subtle, brisk chill, underscored by a delayed but present warmth born of the cores of life that burned within the alien. Will found it just as comforting to touch as be touched.

He started out tracing the outer edge of Robot’s head, carefully, almost floating along the jagged edges. Then he roamed down and let his flesh bob over the ridges that shaped the torso of his friend. They were almost like bones, thick and protective, smooth though slightly tarnished. Like scars that rose to bevel Will’s own skin.

Will’s breath caught in his throat as realization began to rise like a sun. His eyes and fingers moved back up, to encircle the smooth window into Robot’s mind. 

A thousand beams were breathing, swelling and dimming like blooming and dying explosions. A littering of stars that seemed to fall into forever. Galaxies in the viewer to the soul that lived beneath. 

Will found it. That thing sought out in youth and desire and buried cleverness and growth. In all the things he sometimes forgot Robot was also experiencing. Not because they were connected, though they were, but because they were the same. Inexperienced. Lonely. Loving.

In a burst, Will pushed forward, closed the distance on the bed. With eyes sealed shut he kissed the glass. Pressed his lips firm and passionate, unwavering in the lack of give or reciprocation. Because he felt something after all, a stirring of heat that seeped through the glass like a laser beam, but didn’t burn, just caused his face to flush. 

He held the contact, mouth trembling against radiating warmth, hands gripping the edge of steel like handlebars. Until that same metal encircled him, drew him firm but gentle against those beveled ribs, steel bars like a cage that felt like freedom.

When Will pulled back, breathless, equal parts lost and found and dizzy with joy, those stars he had fallen into had merged, drawn together in an azure pinpoint that stared back like a single widened eye. 

“Did you find it?” Will’s voice was a whisper, fragile as the moment.

Robot replied, with usual confidence seemingly unshaken by their revelation, “Yes. Will Robinson.”

**Author's Note:**

> Finished season 2 of Lost in Space and wrote this. I ship Robot/Will like crazy and want to explore their dynamic more when I'm less busy. Hope you guys liked this!


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